


Bully

by Larrydrarryklaine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angsty!Louis, Drinking, High School, M/M, No other smut, Shitty Summary, Smoking, badboy!Harry, handjob, idk how this site works, larry stylinson - Freeform, multi-chaptered, some homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrydrarryklaine/pseuds/Larrydrarryklaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All his life Harry and his friends have tormented Louis. This year, however, things change. A Badboy!Harry Larry Stylinson fanfiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> All of my fics are originally posted on fanfiction .net but technically Larry Stylinson is illegal over there. (is it here? idk) It also might be formatted weirdly because I have no idea how to use computers

“Hey Tomlinson!” Harry shouted in a way that made my own last name sound like an insult. “Why don’t you stop and chat for a minute?” I sped up. I had been so sure that if I just stuck to the shadows and ducked around the taller kids he wouldn’t find me and I could make my way to English in peace. Of course I couldn’t, of course he found me, of course I couldn’t be normal for five fucking minutes. Harry’s footsteps pounded behind me along with those of the rest in his crew. Since the first day of kindergarten Harry, Liam, Zayn, and Niall had always been the most popular and ruthless group in school. They called themselves 'The Brigade,’ fucking twats. The very mention of their names made boys cower in fear, girls shiver in want, and parents shake their heads in disapproval. They were constantly the talk of the town. The brains behind every party and every crime. But the worst by far was Harry. He lived on rebellion, practically breathed cigarettes and fed on the ink of tattoos. He had been emancipated when he was seventeen, for reasons unknown to anyone but him and his father, and at the current age of eighteen practically lived in a large van. Harry only ever seemed to use his actual home for parties and fucking the occasional slut worthy of more than the old shag carpeting in the back of his Volkswagen.  
  
A force suddenly pulled me back by the collar of my shirt, gagging me on the fabric, and spun me around to face the sinister eyes of Harry and his boys. Zayn, a darker skinned boy with round brown eyes and a straight jaw, removed his hand from the back of my shirt and lifted me up by the front instead. Liam, a friendly looking boy despite his true violent nature, whispered something to Niall whose blue eyes immediately sparkled as his face split in a cruel laugh. Harry stared like he always does, with a smirk on his face and his muscular, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Tattoos, the boy was covered in the damn things. They coated every inch of his arms and neck, seeping slightly into his jaw line and face in small patches like they were slowly swallowing him up. None of them appeared to have any sort of real meaning. They were all just various symbols of ‘manliness.’ A shark here, a half naked women there, things like that. They were almost always visible too; he rarely wore anything other than t-shirts and jeans, with the occasional black leather jacket. A classic bad-boy.  
  
“Why the rush Tommo?” Harry said to me as the halls began to clear out. Plenty of people walked by us, saw the situation I was in, and did nothing. Looked me dead in the eyes and just walked away like I was invisible. Bastards.  
  
“Hey, faggot!” Zayn shook me roughly causing my skull to crack against the wall I was pushed up against. “He asked you a question.”  
  
“I needed to get to class.” I said, trying to hide the pain in my voice, but Harry could tell. Harry could always tell.  
  
“Oh no,” Harry said with mock concern. “Are we making you late for class Tomlinson? Are we annoying you? Oh please don’t say we’re annoying you, I’d hate that.” I glared at him. He chuckled. All he had to do was utter the simple words “Do it, boys.” and Zayn dropped me and began kicking me, along with Liam and Niall. With their feet all stabbing me from different directions it wasn’t long before I blacked out.

  


…

  


I was out for a short period of time, class had barely started when I had woken up and I could easily have gotten away with the excuse of needing to use the bathroom or forgetting a book in my locker but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. School had been slowly but surely becoming less and less appealing to me. The teachers were idiots, the work kept piling, my friends were losers, and I couldn’t escape the fucking Brigade no matter where I went. Sitting through another forty-five minutes of a middle-aged hag drone on and on about the importance of commas was simply not an option for me, but I couldn’t go home either. My mum was probably there, along with the twins, and she would have a heart attack if she knew her only son had dared to skip class. So I shakily stood up on my sore legs and walked right past the hallways that led to English and the front doors, and instead went for the staircase hidden in the dusty corner of a scarcely used hallway. I think the steel door guarding the stairwell was supposed to be locked, but it never has been any time I’ve used it. The door seemed like it was rarely ever opened by anyone other than myself, considering the large squeak of protest it gave as I opened it, so I doubt any faculty member had ever bothered to even consider locking it. As I entered I didn’t even bat an eye before I headed up the stairs until I couldn’t go any higher. I shoved open a heavy metal door, identical to the first, at the top of the stairs and was immediately hit with the unfavorably cold January air. The slight breeze bit at my skin, even under my thick hoodie, and I shivered as I made my way across the smooth, black surface of the rooftop.  
  
Out of all the places in school, the roof is my favorite. The weather may suck from time to time but it’s always quiet. No one could see me or find me. If the Brigade ever did find me I don’t what I’d do. This is the only quiet place I have left. At school it’s either them or my friends bothering me and at home it’s my parents. That or they're bothering each other, screaming more like, until their throats are sore and my sisters are crying. I groan with frustration as I sit somewhat precariously on the edge of the roof, my legs dangling over the side and my arse planted on the small cement border that is somehow supposed to stop people from falling over. If I were to fall I don’t think anyone would care, not really anyway. My family barely notices me as it is; the only time they ever seem to actually care is when I fuck up. Then all the attention is on me. My friends might care. I will admit they are nice people; they are just so ridiculously boring and stuck in their ways they make me want to scream. How can one person go through the same routine day after day and be content with that? I do it and I can barely breathe sometimes, it drives me so fucking crazy.  
  
Maybe I was too lost in thought to hear the creak of the steel door or notice the wafting scent of tobacco and cologne, or maybe I did hear and notice and I just let happen subconsciously. I’m not sure which; all I know is that it was too late to run by the time I heard a husky voice say,  
  
“You look like you could use a smoke.”  
  
I jumped forwards slightly and turned around at the low drawl of Harry’s voice, nearly flinging myself over the edge of the roof. He chuckled slightly from where he was standing alone, thank God, and leaning against the frame of the door with a lit cigarette in his hand and smoke blowing quickly out of his mouth and whipping away with the wind.  
  
“Mind if I take a seat?” He asked coolly and I said nothing. It felt wrong, unnatural to see him here. This was my place, my safe haven, he was never supposed to find me, how dare he find me? At my lack of response Harry laughed again and sat down beside me, far too close for comfort. His legs dangled much lower and just larger than mine over the edge and the smell of tobacco that seemed to cling to his skin nearly suffocated me. All of a sudden I went through a sort of ‘second-shock’ like I had forgotten whom he was and how big he was and who I was and how easily he could crush in my skull or push me over the edge if he wished to do so. Which is why I sat there for what felt like hours just paralyzed in fear and when he handed me his box of cigarettes I nearly fell to my death for a second time that day.  
  
“Jesus Tomlinson, do I really scare you that badly?” He laughed out, but when I said nothing and merely stared at him with wide eyes his smile faded slightly and the humor escaped from his eyes. “I guess I do.”  
  
But then after a moment of tense silence his cocky smirk was back on his lips and the teasing light was back in his eyes and I hated him all over again. “Do you want a fuckin’ smoke or not?”  
  
I shook my head but he kept staring at me like that wasn’t enough so I managed to whisper out a quiet, “No.”  
  
“Why’s that?”  
  
“I dunno.” I internally cringed at how weak and frightened I sounded and how Harry clearly noticed and smiled at the fact.  
  
“It’ll warm you up! I can tell you’re cold.” He stuffed his cigarette between his lips and pulled another one out along with a lighter.  
  
“I’m fine.” I tried to sound at least somewhat stern but the second cigarette was already being held out to me, his was already lit and puffing out a long stream of smoke from where it dangled between his chapped lips, and Harry kept looking at me with large expectant eyes. I took it slowly, feeling slightly scared of both Harry and the cigarette, and stared for a few seconds before I realized I had no idea what I was doing. Harry must’ve thought the same thing because he snorted loudly and took the cigarette into his larger, ink-coated fingers.  
  
“Let me help you out there, Tommo.” He chuckled as he raised the awfully fragrant stick to my lips with one hand and wrapped the other hand gently around the back of my neck. He fished his lighter out from one of his back pockets again and lit the cigarette. I froze immediately at the clicking and slight woosh sounds the lighter made.  
  
“Breath in.” He directed with a soft chuckle as he brought it in between my lips, and I did, immediately coughing and spluttering from the horrible stinging feeling, causing Harry to burst out in laughter and retract both his hands along with the cigarette.  
  
“Not like that, dipshit! Now,” He said bringing his hands back where they were. “Breathe in, but hold it in your mouth, don’t let it go down your throat yet.” I did as he said and it still wasn’t the best feeling in the world but it was better.  
  
“Good.” He said, pulling the cigarette out of my lips. “Now I want you to breathe in, but not to here.” He brought two fingers up to my throat and pressed them slightly onto my Adam’s apple causing my face to flush deeply and a smile to break out on his. “To here.” He trailed his fingers down slowly and pressed them just below the center of my chest. I took a deep breath, following his instructions, and felt the thick air travel down deep into my body.  
  
“Now let it out.” Harry said softly and we both watched in awe at the smoke leaving my mouth and blending and disappearing into the air, like neither of us could believe that had just happened.  
  
“You, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry said as he stubbed out the mostly wasted cigarette on the tar of the rooftop. “Have just smoked your first cigarette.”  
Then things happened quickly. Harry was smiling, and his hand was still on my neck, and we both noticed, and he frowned, and my eyes got wider, and he got closer, and his breath was on my lips, and his fingers curled in my hair, he yanked me forward and he kissed me, he kissed hard and firm and his lips didn’t feel chapped at all and he was gone. Whipped away by the wind and rushed out of the atmosphere. Just like the smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Btw if you think "The Brigade" is a stupid name I do too. I literally had no other ideas so I just went with it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long it takes me to update, I'll try and be better about it!

I went home in tears, something I haven’t done in a long time. I’ve been tempted, tempted to cry and kick and scream, but I’ve never given the Brigade the satisfaction. Something I’ve always prided myself on. But today wasn’t like those days; this was a whole new kind of low. They could continue to beat me to a pulp every damn day and it wouldn’t hurt nearly as bad as this. They must’ve known that. They must’ve seen me walking to the roof and planned this whole thing. All of it. Him scaring me, giving me a cigarette, kissing me… fucking kissing me! What kind of sick game are they trying to play on me? I slammed the front door shut with a bang as I entered my home causing my mother to squeal in surprise.  
  
“Louis? Honey, is that you?” She emerged from the dining room off to the side of the house with a concerned look on her face, as soon as she saw me though the look faded into one of annoyance. “Honey, don’t scare me like that!”  
  
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled truthfully while wiping tears from my eyes.  
  
“Louis… are you crying?” I didn’t answer, which she took as a very obvious yes. She immediately enveloped me in a warm motherly hug that, while it lasted, I returned wholeheartedly, until she shoved me backwards roughly.  
  
“Mum, what-”  
  
“Have you been smoking?” She practically growled at me. Oh shit. Of course she could tell I’m such a fucking idiot, I didn’t even think of that. I supposed there was no point in lying to her now.  
  
“It was just one cigarette!” I said in a pointlessly defensive tone as I pushed past her towards the stairs.  
  
“Louis William Tomlinson!”  
  
“What?” I snapped back at her.  
  
She gasped. “Don’t you dare raise your voice to me, young man. Haven’t your father and I taught you anything?”  
  
“Yeah, you have!” I yelled, finally sick of all this, of them constantly putting my sisters and I through hell and back and still thinking we don’t have any right to pissed off about it. “You taught me how to have a shit marriage and ignore all your fucking children! How can you even call yourselves parents?”  
  
She stared at me wide-eyed and speechless and to be honest I couldn’t believe I had said it either. Before I could breakdown and take it all back like I knew I would I grabbed my backpack and stalked off to my small bedroom, slamming the door on my way in. I flopped down on my bed and started doing my homework before I could give myself the chance to think about the day I had just experienced.  
  
…  
  
Over the course of the night I decided I wasn’t sorry for what I had said. It was true. It's been true for years and it’s about time they started to do something about it. My father made me apologize though, which I thought was idiotic until he dragged me downstairs to say it to my mother’s face. Her eyes had been rimmed red with the same shade staining her cheeks and nose. She had been crying. I made my own mum cry.  
  
I immediately broke down and told her I was sorry and that was the end of that. It was like I had never yelled at her and she immediately snapped back into the woman she was before this afternoon.  
  
“Troy?” She said turning to my father.  
  
“Yes?” He said from his seat at the head of the dining table where we were all eating dinner, including my four sisters.  
  
“Are you aware that your son is a smoker?” He slammed his fork down with a loud crash, a large piece of steak flying off.  
  
“What?” He glared at me and I shrunk in on myself a little bit in fear.  
  
“It was just one cigarette, I’m not a smoker.”  
  
“Louis, how could you be so idiotic? Those… those ‘coffin nails’ will kill you!”  
  
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled lowly while all my sisters snickered.  
  
“And you!” He turned to my mother and we all quickly became silent and afraid.  
  
“Me?” She exclaimed.  
  
“Yes you! Where do you get off saying he’s ‘my son!’ He’s just as much yours as he is mine! It can’t always be my fault every time he fucks up!”  
  
Mum gasped as though she was actually surprised that dad would be yelling at her.  
  
“Well I know that I've told him smoking was a bad decision, that I've taken the time to teach him right from wrong. Have you?” Silence. “Thought so.” She crossed her arms smugly over her chest and he snorted angrily.  
  
“Don’t give me that look you bitch.”  
  
“Stop it!” I yelled, bursting out of my seat.  
  
“No, why don’t you stop it?” Lottie, my favorite and closest sister, said with a sneer. “Haven’t you done enough?” When I looked around the table all my sisters were wearing similar looks on their faces, my parents holding especially dark glares.  
  
“I-I…” I stuttered quietly in shock. “I’m just trying to help.”  
  
“You never help!” She shouted back at me. “You ruin everything!”  
  
A sudden rage built up within me then and I practically shook the house with a scream of, “Fine! Maybe I’ll just leave!” Without waiting for a response I ran out the front door, knocking down the chair I was sitting in and  
grabbing my wallet on the way out.  
  
It was cold outside; much colder than it had been that afternoon. I was thankful that I had already been wearing shoes and the same hoodie from earlier although they did nothing against the cold pinching at the skin of my face and seeping through the fabric of the shirt I had on underneath. My feet carried me down me my street and for a while I didn’t think about where I was going, just what had happened. Those ungrateful little bitches. I was only trying to stop our parents from ripping each others' heads off! What were they doing? Fucking nothing! And what the hell did Lottie mean by ‘You ruin everything?’ What have I ruined? Does she blame me for their fighting? It’s not my fault that twenty years of being together have driven them both into a spiraling pit of hatred, it’s not my fault that they are both too lazy to actually try and fix their broken marriage, it’s not my fault they barely pay attention to any of us anymore… Right?  
  
I looked up from my shoes and panicked for a moment at the different settings before I realized where I was. My feet had carried me to a busy street about ten minutes away from my house. Across the road there was a sleazy old gas station and I waited for the first break in traffic I saw to cross the street and walk inside. I didn’t even think about what I was doing before I walked up to the cashier and asked for the first box of cigarettes I saw and a lighter. The greasy old man behind the counter didn’t look up from the newspaper on his lap while he handed me what I asked for and held his other palm up for the money.  
  
I walked out of the store and immediately lit up the first cigarette I pulled out of the box. Remembering what Harry had taught me I took the first drag with minimal coughing and sat down on the curb. I sat for a while just contemplating my next move. It was already dark outside so I figured the best thing to do would be to find a place to spend the night. Home was out of the question and sleeping in an alley should probably be reserved as a last resort. So, I did the only thing I could think to do. I pulled out my cell phone, which I never go anywhere without because of situations exactly like this, and dialed the first number in my contacts list. After two rings a feminine voice answered.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Eleanor?”  
  
“Louis!” I smiled. El has always been my closest friend, I always talked to her about my problems with the Brigade and my parents and she was always there to offer an ear and a tissue. “Where were you during English?”  
  
“Could I spend the night at your place?” I asked, too exhausted from the day I had to explain anything just yet. I heard the muffled sounds of her talking with her parents before she responded.  
  
“Come on down!” She chirped, unfased by me blatantly ignoring her question.  
  
“Thank you El, you are a saint.” We exchanged goodbyes before hanging up and I was back on my feet, walking in the direction of her home. Unfortunately in order to reach my destination I was forced to cut through a bad part of town. While I realized this was probably not the smartest idea I had no other options. So, I took a deep breath, put on a brave face, and took a right turn down the infamous Fairfield Road.  
  
I grew up in the small town of Worcester. It’s one of those towns where everyone knows everyone else, one of those towns that people are born in and never leave, one of those towns that every teenager just wants to ‘get out’ of. And in this town there was a small neighborhood known as Needham Estates. The word ‘Estates’ in this area had no meaning whatsoever. The place was said to be poor, crime ridden, and disgusting. And right through the center of this neighborhood ran Fairfield Road. Every child who grew up in Worcester had heard tales of Fairfield Road. It was constantly on the news for one sort of malfeasance or another, every parent would threaten misbehaving children with ‘a trip to Fairfield,’ and the occasional group of brave elementary aged souls would travel there only to be too terrified to make it halfway down. As I grew older I realized the tales we were told about it, as children, were just as real as Santa or the tooth fairy. It’s nothing more than a lower class neighborhood and on my way to El’s house I’ve had to cut through a few times. Enough times to know that it’s not really a big deal. But every once and a while it gets hard to shake off that childlike feeling of spookiness and fear.  
  
A quarter of the way down Fairfield and I began to hear the loud pumping bass of some song that sounded like it belonged in a strip club drifting down the street. It really wasn’t any cause for alarm, I assumed someone might be having some sort of party (it was a Friday night after all), so I continued to walk past the line of tightly compacted brick row homes that almost seemed to serve as a barricade between Fairfield and the rest of civilization. As I continued to walk forward the music became louder and louder until I was standing in front of the home that was obviously responsible for it. Except something was off. I stopped in front of the house, stomping my cigarette butt out on the ground in front of me, and stared. There were no lights on. The house looked dark, empty, and almost… haunting. Which was why I nearly jumped out of my skin at the low sound of,  
  
“Look at you Tomlinson, already smoking like a chimney.”  
  
Harry. Harry’s the only person who would call me that, who has a voice like that. My eyes darted around frantically. It seemed impossible that he would actually be here. It seemed far more likely that I would be going insane.  
  
Then a soft two-note whistle came from above my head and I saw him. He was sitting on the small shingle roof over the porch of the home, leaning lazily against the surface of the brick wall next to an open window that he had presumably crawled out of. He had a brown glass bottle in his hand and a couple more empty bottles lined up next him, a stupid smirk on his face, and sweatpants hanging loosely over his hips. Only sweatpants. All of the tattoos on his upper body were revealed. They swirled and crossed all over his sides and around his shoulders, trailing up to his neck and jaw line all the way down his arms to the tips of his fingers. He gave me a small wave and a wink. I felt like I was on fire.  
  
“What’cha doing on big bad Fairfield Road, Tommo? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He teased and I gained a sudden burst of confidence and frustration.  
  
“I could ask you the same.”  
  
“I live here.” He said calmly. “Practically run the whole neighborhood.”  
  
“Oh yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Harry stood up and outstretched his arms as if to envelope the world in a hug. “This is my land! My kingdom! Bow down before me all those who enter!”  
  
With that someone in a row home nearby opened their window and stuck their head outside. “Shut the fuck up!”  
  
I chuckled and Harry glared in their direction. “My subjects tend to be awfully rude, care to continue this conversation inside, Tomlinson?”  
  
There were plenty of fantastic reasons to say ‘no’ and keep moving along. I needed to get to El’s. I should be asleep by now. Harry is dangerous. I should have probably gone back home half an hour ago. Harry is supposed to hate me. This is all probably a trap. I’m prone to making idiotic mistakes. Harry kissed me less than nine hours ago.  
  
“Okay.” He smiled darkly at me and despite my hardest efforts not to, I shivered where I stood. And I couldn’t convince myself it was because of the cold. Harry jumped inside through the open widow, closing it behind him. The music coming from his house stopped playing and the world suddenly became unnaturally silent. Within about thirty seconds a light flicked on behind the windows of the first floor and the front door opened, revealing Harry. I made my way up onto the porch and in through the door despite every part of my brain that was screaming at me to run away. On my way in I noted that Harry was wearing a dark blue beanie that restrained all of hair, revealing two thin rings pierced the cartilage at the top of his left ear, and making his face seem much less threatening than usual. Or maybe that was because he wasn’t trying to beat me up. Who knows?  
  
“Take a seat anywhere you like.” Harry said lowly and I used the opportunity to glance around the room. It was long and skinny like row homes are. We were standing in a living area with a couch and two chairs, all made of different fabrics and patterns, and a TV. The wall had posters for various bands that Harry must be a fan of. Bands like Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, and many others that I’ve never even heard of all featuring equally violent designs. Farther back I could see a small dining room with one round table in the center and two folding chairs set up around it. Even farther back was a small kitchen and even from back here I could the piles of dirty dishes he had stacked up on his counter tops. I sat down slowly and stiffly on the couch closest to me and Harry immediately followed, sitting much closer than appropriate just like on the ledge that afternoon. Only this time we were alone in his house. And he was shirtless. I swallowed thickly.  
  
“You never did answer me ya know.”  
  
“I’m sorry?’ I said, not sure what Harry was referring to.  
  
“Earlier, I asked you why you were out here.”  
  
“Oh,” I went a little quiet, not entirely sure how to answer him. “I was walking to a friends house.”  
  
“You got friends on Fairfield?” He looked surprised.  
  
“No, she lives across town… I was just walking through.”  
  
“She?” His eyebrows knitted together tightly and he looked away from me. Harry pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placed it between his lips, and lit it at what seemed like record speeds. “What is she… like is she your  
girlfriend?”  
  
“No.” I said quickly and I didn't miss the way Harry visibly relaxed. “Just a friend.”  
  
“So why walk? You got parents to drive you… don’t you?” He leaned back and laid a muscled arm down on the back of the couch, just above my shoulders.  
  
“I don’t really want to talk about that.”  
  
“Ah.” He said, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. “I’ve been there before.”  
  
“What?” I questioned before remembering the situation he was rumored to be in with his father. “Oh! No it’s nothing like that…”  
  
“Mhmm.” He smirked.  
  
“It’s not.” Silence. “It’s not!”  
  
“Did I ever say it was, Tomlinson?” He looked me dead in the eyes and I noticed for the first time what a brilliant shade of green they were.  
  
“You have pretty eyes.” For a few seconds I wasn’t sure who had said it until Harry broke out into a fit of laughter. A deep blush bloomed across my face and I was extremely tempted to walk back to the front door and slam my head into it.  
  
“Why thank you, Tomlinson.” He turned to me then, while he stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby ashtray his eyes lingered up and down my body slowly, an action that both made me want to run back home and pull him closer. I sat still.  
  
“Why do you call me that?” I asked him, surprising both of us. I suppose I thought there was no use in holding anything in anymore. It’s not like I had anything to lose, what was he going to do? Tell everyone in school that I’m a freak and a loser? Him and his crew already do that on a daily basis anyway.  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“You never call me by my first name, why?” He took a short while to answer.  
  
“Would you prefer it if I did?” He questioned and I nodded slowly. “Alright then, Louis. But you gotta do the same for me.”  
  
“No problem, Harry.” He smiled.  
  
“Can I get you something to drink?” He said, standing up without waiting for an answer. He walked in the direction of the kitchen and when he returned he was holding two of the same glass bottles he had with him on the roof earlier. I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bottle, I wasn’t stupid… just tired. I was sick and tired of never taking any risks ever. The most ‘daring’ thing I’ve ever done before today was skip class, for Christ’s sake. It was time to make a change. It was time, for once in my life, to just do something stupid for the hell of it. So I palmed the bottle being held out to me and looked Harry dead in the eyes as I took my first swig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter I think will be posted on Wednesday and it will most likely be entirely smut. Do with that information what you will.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may or may not have noticed that this fic is now rated as explicit. This is because this entire chapter is DRUNK SMUT. You have been warned! If you're not a fan of smut don't worry, if you skip this chapter you won't miss anything important at all and I'll be updating with a real chapter tomorrow!

“Jesus Christ, Lou! You are sucha lightweight!” Harry had stopped after that one bottle since he had already chugged down a few before I even arrived, but I didn’t stop. I only had two more and I was already drunker than Harry was.  
  
I giggled loudly in Harry’s arms, the alcohol running through my veins had made me much more comfortable with Harry’s close proximity and encouraged me to scoot closer myself. By the time I had dropped my third empty bottle on the table he was lying on his back with my body draped over him. One of his hands kept running lazily up and down the length of my spine and my hazy mind made me feel very okay with that.  
  
“You know, Louis,” Harry said loudly, his words rumbling in his chest and vibrating through my whole body in a pleasant way. “I’ve enjoyed having you here, I truly have, but I believe you have a friend to see, don’t you?” I frowned.  
  
“You kickin’ me out?” I mumbled into his chest and he chuckled.  
  
“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, babe. Besides…” Harry’s voice darkened dangerously as his hand slowly made it’s way lower than it had gone before, until he was gently cupping my arse. “I can think of a few things we could do while I’ve got you here.”  
  
Slowly, I raised myself up onto my tired arms until I was able to look him in the eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know…” I squeaked in an embarrassingly nervous way, I can only imagine how red my face must've looked.  
  
“Oh come on, Louis!” Harry leaned up to whisper in my ear while he groped roughly at my bum. “I’ll make you feel real good, baby.” A hot shiver ran through out my body and I could feel Harry smile against the skin of my neck, which he had begun to tug gently in between his teeth. Some where in the still rational part of my brain I knew this wasn’t a good idea in any way whatsoever, but the rational part of your brain is difficult to hear when you’re a drunk teenager with a half naked body pressed up against you.  
  
Harry flipped us over suddenly, seeming to take my silence as an okay, so I was lying on my back and he was in between my thighs. He trailed kisses up my neck and jaw line until his lips were slotted firmly against mine in an eerie resemblance to this afternoon. Except unlike this afternoon he stayed. He stayed and he was so warm and heavy against my body and his tongue was wet and hot against my lips and my own tongue and I was too drunk to realize that I had only ever dreamed of going this far with anyone before. The thought that Harry had gone so much farther way before I was even a blip on his radar settled into my mind and as Harry lifted me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist tightly, and I placed my hands on his neck, I realized then that I was shaking badly. Harry must of noticed and pulled away from my lips and I missed him being there so much even though we were still barely three inches apart.  
  
“You’re shaking.” Harry whispered in a voice so husky I barely managed to bite back a whimper. “You’re nervous.” I nodded slowly and the corners of his lips lifted slightly before his face became serious again. “We don’t…” He paused and sighed like he couldn’t believe he was about to say. “We won’t go all the way, alright? I’ll just jerk you off. Just don’t shake like that. Lemme jerk you off.” Even in my drunken state I didn’t miss the genuine concern in his eyes, I nodded.  
  
Immediately he went back to kissing me and I sighed contentedly as he did so. But this time he slowly moved one of his hands from my hips to the front of my trousers where he rocked his palm back and forth over my clothed cock. I whimpered loudly in surprise and lust and he smirked against my lips. He waited for what felt like hours, until I was fully hard and a fucking mess in his arms, before he undid the button and zipper on my jeans and pulled my already leaking erection out from my pants. I shuddered harder than I thought possible as he stroked slowly up and down.  
  
“Ha-Har…” I whispered softly and he bit onto my shoulder lightly.  
  
“Say it, Louis.” He breathed into my ear. “Say my fucking name, baby.”  
  
“Harry,” I whimpered in a high pitched tone and his pace sped up on my dick, his thumb dipping slightly into my slit. “Fuck, Harry.”  
  
“Mm, yeah.” He moaned into my ear. Up until that point he had been rocking his length steadily into my thigh but just then he reached with his free hand underneath his sweats and pulled out his cock. He jerked himself off for only a few seconds before, with a breathy sigh of, “Shit, Lou.” he lined his dick up with mine. The feeling of his own rigid flesh against mine with his large, tattooed hand squeezing and stroking around both of us made me moan louder than I thought I could.  
  
“Oh God, Harry.” My hips jerked up into his palm making him moan with the inadvertent friction it caused.  
  
“You close, baby?” He whispered in my ear roughly. “You gonna come?” I nodded quickly and he laid back on the couch and pulled me higher onto his lap, while his hand continued to move maybe even faster than before. He looked so much different than I had ever seen him. His pupils were blown wide, leaving the tiniest rim of green around them, a sexy shade of pinkish red dusted his cheeks and trailed down his neck and chest ending at his rock hard cock that was leaving a small pool a white on his abs, which were visibly contracting the longer we went on. I whimpered.  
  
“God you look so good, baby.” I looked up to see Harry eyes worshiping my body in a way similar to how I had just been staring at him. His eyes flickered up and met mine with a lusty smirk. “Wanna see you come hard. C’mon do it. It’ll be so good, it’ll make me come. Do it, baby. Come for me, Louis.”  
  
I came harder than I ever had in my entire fucking life. As I had my head thrown back and my mouth open in a silent scream I was somewhat aware of Harry climaxing underneath me. I collapsed onto him then, I didn’t care that my hoodie was still on or that there was a mess of come between the two of us or that Harry wasn’t exactly known for having his conquests stick around for a cuddle. All I wanted was to fall asleep and the nearest, and probably most comfortable, place to do so was on top of Harry. To my surprise as I was just about to drift off I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me protectively, a soft kiss on the top of my damp hair, and a low, laughing whisper of,  
  
“Told you I’d make you feel good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments would mean so much to me, I'm not very confident with my smut writing abilities and I would love to have some opinions and/or advise.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this chapter very much. To make up for it I'll try to update again on Saturday!

“Harry Styles gave you a hand-job!” El’s eyes were wide in shock making her look especially comical with her childlike penguin pajamas and sleep-messed hair.  
  
“Not so loud!” I whispered harshly, turning around to check that we had closed her bedroom door. A few hours ago I had woken up on an unfamiliar couch with an equally unfamiliar pounding in my head and queasiness to my stomach. It took me a while, but after a few minutes of glancing around at the ratty furniture, chipped paint on the walls, and empty bottles on the table it all came rushing back to me. Harry, Harry and his house and his booze and his hands and his, oh God, his cock.  
  
With a slight shiver I looked El in her big curious eyes and nodded. “Yes, El. Harry Styles gave me a hand-job.” For a few seconds she was utterly silent and still, until she positively exploded. Arms flailing, a shriek tore its way from her throat as she bounced where she sat atop her thighs on her fluff-covered bed. I couldn’t help but laugh despite my ever-grumpy attitude and still quite persistent hangover.  
  
“Oh my God, Louis!” She gripped at my arms and stared me down intensely. “Tell me more! Tell me everything!”  
  
“What more could you possibly want to know? I already told you the juicy part.”  
  
“But there are other parts, right? Like before, what happened before he had his hand down your pants?”  
  
“We got drunk?” I said it like a question, not entirely sure if that was what she was looking for when she said ‘other parts.’  
  
“Oh my God!” El threw herself backwards and landed gracelessly onto her many pillows and stuffed animals. “You got drunk with Harry Styles!” After she calmed herself down a bit she patted the empty spot next to her, signaling for me to lie down as well, which I did thankfully. Even though I had woken up at noonish, with the ache in my skull I felt exhausted.  
  
My eyes were closed and I was near asleep when El spoke again. “And after?”  
  
“What?” She turned on her side to look at me.  
  
“What happened afterwards?”  
  
“We fell asleep.”  
  
“Like, together?”  
  
“Yeah.” I smiled. “Like together.” El squealed in delight, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her inquisitive mind.  
  
“And then?”  
  
My smile faded as the reality of this morning washed over me. “Then nothing.”  
  
“Oh c’mon.” She shoved my shoulder lightly. “Then something.”  
  
“No, nothing.” I turned to look at her. “I woke up and he was gone. He might’ve been in another part of the house or another part of town. I don’t know. But either way I didn’t wait to find out.”  
  
“You just left?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because…” I swallowed thickly. “Because I got scared, El. What if he kicked me out? What if he laughed in my face? What if he treated me like every other slut that he’s spent the night with. God, I have no idea what came over me last night. I’m so fucking stupid.” Horror settled in my mind as I began to clear from the fog of my hangover the extent to which I had truly fucked myself over.  
  
“Louis, no…” El offered out a comforting hand but I sat up, out of her reach.  
  
“Yes, El! All Harry has ever wanted to do is hurt me, why did I choose to trust him? Do you know how many times I could’ve told him no? He asked me to come inside I said yes, he asked me to sit down I said yes, he asked if I wanted a drink I said yes, he asked if he could jerk me off and I fucking said yes! Oh my God I bet him and the rest of his Goddamn gang are laughing about it right now! And why shouldn’t they? Why shouldn’t they laugh at that ‘stupid virgin nerd Tomlinson’ who was actually idiotic enough to believe that Harry fucking Styles might actually like him? Do you know what he did yesterday at school, on the roof?” El shook her head and began to stutter out an answer but I cut her off before she could actually say anything. “He kissed me, El. He was my first fucking kiss and then he just ran. He couldn’t even stand to stay and talk before he was out the fucking door.” My voiced had dropped slowly to a low and sad tone and I didn’t known that I had started crying until El pulled a tissue from her bedside table and wiped at my most likely puffy cheeks.  
  
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled lowly after I had a chance to calm down more. “I didn’t mean to yell.”  
  
“No worries, Hun.” El said with an honest smile as she pulled me back down next to her. “You have every right to be angry and confused. Just remember that everything might not turn out as bad as you think, alright?”  
  
I nodded and hugged her close. “Thank you, El.” Once again I had nearly fallen asleep when El decided to speak again.  
  
“Does this mean you’re gay, Louis?”  
  
“Yeah. I guess it does.” I answered her slowly as I mulled over it in my head and came back with that being a definite possibility. El spoke again several minutes later.  
  
“Your parents are going to kill you.”  
  
"Yeah…” I said in a drowsy tone as sleep took over me. “I guess they are.”

  


…

  


Monday has never come faster for me in my life. And at seven thirty in the morning, standing in front of the ominous front doors to Worcester Community School, I wish it had taken longer. I had returned home later Saturday evening and suffered the predictable consequences. No TV, no El. One week. Neither of those are really a problem for me considering I rarely ever watch TV and that I see El everyday at school and I could still text her anytime I wanted to, but I didn’t tell them that. El, probably noticing my slight anxiety over entering the large brick building, placed an almost motherly hand on my shoulder as she matched her stride to mine.  
  
“You’ll be fine, Louis.” She said with a smile.  
  
“I know, El.” I lied. Mere seconds later I felt a blunt force bang into the back of my left knee, sending me toppling forwards. Even though I hoped and hoped I wouldn’t, when I looked up I saw the faces of the Brigade looking back at me, except one face seemed to be unable to meet my gaze. Harry stalked off in front of the others as the rest tried to catch up while they all patted and encouraged Niall and with a shout of “Happy Monday, fag!” they were gone just as quickly as they were there.  
  
“Louis?” El crouched down beside me while everyone else in the large hallway dodged and ignored us. “Louis, I am so sorry.”  
  
“I’m fine, El.” I said sternly as I stood on my shaky legs and tried to wipe the dirt of my trousers.  
  
“Are you sure? Maybe we shou-”  
  
“I said I’m fine!” She backed off then and I quickly made my way to my first period class feeling like a mess. I shouldn’t have yelled at her, I knew that, but I was angry. The damned idiot couldn’t even look at me, let alone stand in my presence for more than two seconds. He couldn’t even give me that much, after all we had done.  
  
But what had we done? He did to me what he does to every other girl in this hellhole of a school, why should I be so surprised? Why should I be so hurt?  
  
Halfway through class I asked to use the restroom and immediately went to the roof once I was set free. It felt colder than it ever had up there and I reluctantly reached for the pack of smokes that was buried deep in my pocket along with the lighter. The smoke filled my lungs and immediately caused cozy warmth to settle deep within my body although the cold still bit on the outside. It's hard to believe that a feeling so pleasant can cause so much destruction.  
  
I was jolted out of my nice quiet little world full of smoke and empty mindedness by the door being shoved open roughly. Unwillingly I turned myself around to face the wide green eyes of Harry Styles. He had an unlit cigarette dangling precariously from his plump lips and a lighter between two of his fingers. The jeans he wore dangled loosely around his skinny hips, revealing the waistband of his navy blue boxers, and a T-shirt for some band (one I could recognize from the posters in his home) clung to his torso.  
  
“I didn’t know you were up here.” He said as is almost in awe after removing the cigarette and placing it back in his pocket.  
  
“Are you disappointed?” I asked, stomping my own cigarette out in front of me.  
  
“Not at all, Louis.” He smirked at me, but the butterflies that caused to erupt in my stomach didn’t drown out my anger.  
  
“Don’t do that.” I tried to walk past him, tried to go back to class and ignore him like I should’ve done the first time he came up here, but he caught me by the shoulders and held on tight.  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“Don’t just think you can get away with everything.” I hissed at him. “You know, what you did to me today was pretty shitty. If your going to jerk me off one night then have your friends push me to the ground two days later at least have the balls to look me in the eyes when they do it.” For a short while he said nothing, just stared at me with glassy eyes, until his grip tightened and he shook me back slightly.  
  
“You think what I did was shitty?” He questioned. “What about you?”  
  
“What about me?” My blood began to pump in my veins as his face came closer to mine with every word he said.  
  
“Leaving in the morning without even saying goodbye? Might as well have left a few bucks on my nightstand!”  
  
“What do you care? Don’t you do this all the time? I thought you would’ve wanted me gone.”  
  
“No I…” He paused and his hands fell from my shoulder, I realized he had pressed me against the rough brick wall next to the door and there were barely inches between us. I took the time he had left me to tell him more.  
  
“Besides, you did the exact same thing to me! Kissed me and ran! Do you know how much that hurts? Of course you don’t! How could you possibly understand what it’s like to have the person who is constantly making your life a living hell take your first kiss and then run! And you didn’t ev-”  
  
“First kiss?” He interrupted me.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You said I took your first kiss.” I blushed deeply as I realized he was right.  
  
“Yeah… so what?”  
  
“Do you really feel like that?” Harry’s tone was soft, almost concerned, not taunting like I had thought it would be.  
  
“What do you mean?” I asked him.  
  
“Like I took your first kiss. Like I stole it.”  
  
“Well I-I don-”  
  
“Can I try again?”  
  
“What?” I exclaimed, blushing even worse and tugging nervously on the sleeves of my sweater.  
  
“I want your first kiss to be perfect, and I don’t wanna have been the one to ruin it… Can I try again?” He said like it was a perfectly normal thing to say, like it made sense. After a moments hesitation I nodded slowly because fuck, as stupid as I felt for it I wanted that, and he smiled back. He reached downwards and wrapped his hand around both of my wrists, bringing them to the back of his neck. My fingers tangled easily into his hair, reminding me of Friday night. Warmth settled on my hips and I looked down to see Harry’s hands clutching me possessively. When I looked up again Harry’s face was less than an inch away from mine, his smoky and minty breath puffing softly over my lips.  
  
“Is this alright?” His voice was barely above a whisper and all I could respond with was a very slight nod. His head lowered slightly and as my eyes drifted shut I felt his soft lips press against mine. I immediately kissed back, moving my lips in synchronization with his as our chests pressed together and I stood on my tiptoes slightly. I felt breathless, like he had taken the air out of my lungs and rolled it into one of those damned cigarettes, like had breathed it in himself and blown it all away into the atmosphere. My mind barely registered the feeling of his arms wrapping all the way around my waist and pulling me closer, gripping me tighter, and the way my arms curled similarly around his neck. His tongue pressed softly between my lips and I instinctively let him in. He explored my mouth the way he speaks. Slow, smooth, and teasing. Only allowing our tongues to touch for a short while before pulling away and taking a slight step backwards. Harry’s arms stayed locked in place and mine did as well. We took a moment to catch our breath and in that time Harry lowered us both softly to the hard floor. He pulled me towards him so I was sitting in his lap and he was cradling me like a child.  
  
“You’re not going to leave me this time?” I asked him breathlessly. This whole thing felt like a dream to me, a dream that could very easily be turned into a horrifically cruel nightmare. But when Harry looked down at me and smiled widely with dimples on his cheeks and hair falling in his face I knew I was safe in this sweet little dream world.  
  
“Not if you won’t, Louis.” He said with a peck on my forehead. “Not if you won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did research how school and emancipation works in England but I'm still a bit foggy, if you could kindly overlook any mistakes it would be much appreciated.

Exactly one week later Harry took me out on our first official date. He originally had begged to take me to a fancy restaurant saying that he’d never had a real relationship before and he wanted to experience “all that cutesy shit” with me. I wouldn’t allow him to because I didn’t want to have to explain to my father just yet why one of his golf buddies witnessed me and Harry Styles getting cozy over a plate lobster with a glass of red wine. So as a compromise Harry invited me over to his place where he tried his hardest to make us spaghetti, which he did manage to do with minor burns and only a few crunchy chunks of uncooked noodle left in the meal. That night he didn’t try to touch me below the waist once, instead he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and as I fell asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat and ‘The Simpsons’ blaring from his cheap TV I swear I felt the press of his lips on top of my head and I’m about ninety-nine percent sure he whispered a quiet ‘goodnight’ into my hair. Although we’ve gone so much farther than sweet little kisses and whispers it still caused a strange feeling to swell deep inside my chest. Harry drove me home the next morning, I can still remember the way he chuckled at my constant fear and need to clutch tightly onto the arms of the passenger seat that I was precariously strapped into. He had thought it was so hilarious how my small body was so easily tossed around in the rickety deathtrap he calls a van. When he had pulled over a block away from my house as I had requested was when we decided to make this a sort of tradition of ours, me sleeping over at his place once a week.  
  
About two months later as we laid in bed together, fingers and legs intertwined with me rambling on about meaningless things, he decided it was time he told me about his parents. His room wasn’t very large so even if we hadn’t been lying next to one another with only inches between us, I still would’ve clearly been able to see hurt in his strong green eyes as he relayed every detail to me.  
  
“He’d always been a drunk, my dad. And he was never afraid to slap me or my mum around when we got too ‘out of line.’ My mum left when I was ten, she couldn’t afford to take me with her but we’d always write to one another. I’d tell her how much I missed her and how horrible it was living with him and she’d always tell me that someday, when she got back on her feet, she’d take me away. When I was fourteen my dad found one of the letters. He beat the shit out of me for keepin’ it secret and saying all that stuff about him. He moved us out to this little house a few hours away, just so she wouldn't know where to send the letters anymore, crazy fucker. When I was sixteen she found me again, had to get a private investigator to do it. She helped me get emancipated so I wouldn’t have to live with my dad anymore. She wanted me to live with her but it felt too much like I was intruding on her new life. She has a husband ya know. Nice bloke. Makes her much happier than my father ever did. She doesn’t like me living on my own, especially here; she demanded to help as much as I would let her. She’s paid for everything, I only have to pay for things like tattoos and stuff for my motorcycle, she hates that thing to. I feel bad about it, letting her pay for it all, but she says she wants to. She doesn’t want me to have to worry about bills when I need to focus on my grades. Which I suppose is true. I’ve been held back more times than I should. I’m eighteen, ya know. I should have started my A Levels this year. But if I had I probably would have never gotten a chance to date you, so I guess it’s pretty worth it.”  
  
As he had finished speaking he looked at me for the first time since he started. He eyes had been slightly reddened and watery and I couldn’t hold back my need to kiss him. I told him I was sorry he had to go through so much to which he responded with a quiet,  
  
“S’all good, Louis.” Then he had pulled me in closer and tucked us both under the thick comforter on his bed, he seemed fine until he tucked his head into the crook of my neck. I think he thought I had fallen asleep because he began to cry. It was the smallest way a person could possibly cry, it sounded and felt like he was holding back as much as possible but couldn’t help having some of his quiet sobs escape. His hands gripped tightly to the fabric of my shirt at my back and when I began to feel the wetness of his tears through the clothing onto the skin of my shoulder was when I couldn’t stand to lay there like a dead fish any longer. I held tightly onto the nape of his neck with one hand and stroked back his hair with the other. Harry hadn’t seemed shocked by this like I thought he would and instead squeezed me impossibly closer to him and sobbed harder, breaking my heart even more. We don’t talk about that night.  
  
One month later Harry told me he loved me for the first time. Earlier in school that day Niall, Liam, and Zayn had cornered me in the hallway on my way to English. They went through the usual routine, taunting me for a while before kicking me to near unconsciousness and running off to God knows where. Physically it hurt no worse than any other beating I’ve received from them but emotionally I felt like someone had reached into my ribcage, squeezed at my heart, and left it there swollen and bruised.  
  
Like usual I ran off to the roof, but unlike usual I crumpled in on myself as soon as I got there. I propped my self up on the brick wall next to the door, the same place where Harry and I shared our second first kiss, and sobbed softly to myself. I felt too exhausted and beaten down by the time I heard the pounding of leather boots against metal steps to try and cover up how horrible I looked even though I felt the extreme need to at least wipe my probably snotty nose. The door swung open and cracked against the wall behind it loudly.  
  
“Louis?” Harry called out into the warm April air before spotting me on the ground. “Louis, thank God.” He sat down beside me and leaned in for a kiss before I ducked my face into my knees. “Louis?”  
  
“Do you know how much that hurts, Harry?” I asked him, turning slightly so he could hear me. “Do you know how painful it is to have your boyfriend’s gang beat you up in the middle of a hallway?”  
  
“Baby I am so sorry, but I’m trying… you know that.” That was true. Since we had began going out Harry had been able to keep his boys from abusing me physically and had manged to lower their reign of terror to the minor verbal taunt every now and again. “If I had known… I never would’ve let this happen, Louis. You know that don’t you?”  
  
“Yes.” I said begrudgingly. Harry smiled sadly and pulled me into his lap slowly, knowing not to be too rough with me too soon. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head and I couldn’t help but smile slightly as well. “I just hate everything about this. I wish it could be easier.”  
  
“It could be easier,” Harry’s voice rumbled comfortingly against my ear. “if you let me tell people that we’re dating.”  
  
“No, Harry.” I said for what felt like the millionth time during the past few months. Throughout the course of our relationship I learned that Harry could be a bit possessive and that he wanted nothing more than to show everyone in the entire universe that I was his. I bet he'd tattoo the words 'Property of Harry Styles' onto my forehead himself if I let him. “And how would that possibly make anything easier? Look at my face,” I said, lifting my head up to look him in the eyes. He winced slightly at the bruises that had already began forming and ran his thumb lightly over a cut on my chin. “They would do so much worse to me than this if they knew I turned their precious leader into a poof.”  
  
“I bet you anything that Zayn's known I'm queer since day one. Besides, I’d fight ‘em off,” Harry said with a smirk.  
  
“Oh really?” I teased.  
  
“Yeah I would. I’d fight off anyone or anything that tried to hurt my precious little Loubear.” I chuckled until he grasped my face firmly between both his hands. “I’m serious, Louis. I’d do anything for you and I promise, I’ll never let anything like this happen ever again. I love you.”  
  
I had sat there for what felt to me like hours, blushing and stammering like an idiot until I was finally able to spit out the one word that came to mind.  
  
“What?” Harry chuckled a little nervously, can’t blame him for doing so, that was probably not the response he was hoping for. And the more I think about that moment the more it seems to me Harry hadn’t meant to say anything like that at all, at least not yet.  
  
“Let me explain it like this,” He reached down to play with my fingers, avoiding my gaze as his cheeks tinted with embarrassment. “when I first got my van I was so freakin’ excited. It was shiny and new and sparkling and it ran so well…” He paused for a moment and I had to restrain myself from laughing at the longing look on his face. “Anyways, after a while it began to break down. The paint started chipping, the new car smell faded away, the engine started wearing down, and I’ve had to take that damn thing into so many different fucking shops…” Harry sighed with frustration as he continually got himself off track. “What I’m trying to say is that the van’s sparkle has dulled to a point where it’s become much more of a hassle to keep around than a joy. And I keep expecting the same to happen with you, but it never does.” I was stunned to say the least. Harry has a tendency to tell stories that have no real point or ending and I hadn’t expected for this to be any different. But that doesn’t mean that it made any more sense to me than usual.  
  
“Just because you think I’m prettier than your van doesn’t mean you’re in love with me.”  
  
“That’s not why I’m in love with you, Louis. I’m in love with you because for the past four years when I see you smile and you get those little crinkles next your eyes my stomach does these flip-flop things, when you fall asleep next to me it takes me hours to do the same because I’d rather be up watching you, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the way you blush whenever I tell you how handsome you are, or the way your eyes light up whenever you make someone laugh. I’m in love with you because I have never felt the need to protect someone so strongly than I do with you, I have never felt more regret for hurting someone than I do with you, I have never felt more happiness than I do just from being near you. I love you, Louis. I love you so fucking much and I’ll do everything within my power to make sure you know how true that is and how true it has been for years without me even knowing.” Harry looked me dead in the eyes as he rattled on and when he finished it was difficult for me to reply around the lump forming in my throat.  
  
“I love you too, Harry.” And I meant it. I meant it so fucking much.   
Harry laughed with a mixture of relief and happiness before kissing me chastely and wrapping me up in his arms. We sat up there until school let out, kissing lightly and holding each other close, and waited for the crowd to clear before we left for his house, hand in hand.  
  
And now, two months later, we’re here. More specifically we’re cuddling on his bed in silence. No words were needed. We could feel the comfort of each other without having to ruin the experience with talking. Sadly, that’s exactly what Harry decided to do.  
  
“Louis?”  
  
“Yes, Harry?” I said sleepily, I had my eyes closed but when Harry didn’t respond I decided to open them. His eyes appeared tired and sad, his brow crinkled above his nose while he thought silently to himself. “Harry, what is it?”  
  
“You love me. Right?” He asked in a thoughtful tone.  
  
“Of course I do.” I couldn’t help but feel slightly offended that he even felt the need to ask that. Sometimes I think I had been in love with him since the first time his fist collided with my jaw several years ago. Looking back I realize so many of things I did were for him; the way I dressed, styled my hair, even the classes I signed up for. I did all these things in hope that one day it would impress Harry. Some might say I was a little obsessed with him. And if that was true then it’s even truer now. I couldn’t possibly be more obsessed with him. I’m obsessed with his eyes, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, the stories behind each and everyone of his tattoos, the corny jokes he tells when I’m sad just to make me smile, the little snore he gets when he’s fallen into a deep sleep, the way my name rolls so perfectly off his tongue and through his perfect lips, the way he hugs me like he never wants to let go, the way kisses me like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get to press his lips to mine.  
  
In life there are very few things I’m sure of. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up; I don’t what university I want to go to, I don’t know where I want to live, and I sure as hell don’t know if I want to get married or have kids. But I do know that I have never felt more sure of myself in my entire life than when I say “I am in love with Harry Styles.” So, it’s only natural to get just a little pissed off when Harry himself isn’t sure of this.  
  
“And you know that I love you.” He said as he took hold of my hands and intertwined our fingers, his large hands making mine look tiny.  
  
“Yes, Harry, where are you going with this?” I questioned.  
  
“It’s just… I want to be able to show people that and… I guess I really just want to know when you think you’ll be ready to come out.”  
  
“Never.” I said flatly.  
  
“Oh come on, Louis!” Harry insisted. “I promise it’s not going to be as bad as you think. You wouldn’t have to do it all at once either, maybe just start with your family. You’ll feel so much better once it’s done and over with.”  
  
“I highly doubt that.” I retorted, thinking of how my parents would react.  
  
“You won’t know until you try, Louis.” Harry squeezed my hands in reassurance as I closed my eyes and thought. After a few minutes Harry spoke softly as he rubbed his thumbs over the back of my hands slowly. “What if I did it with you?”  
  
I open my eyes and looked straight into his. “You would really do that?”  
  
“Of course I would, Louis. I could hold your hand the entire time… I could even do all the talking if you like.” I thought over that for a moment. Doing this would be a lot less horrific with Harry by my side and if I got too scared or started rambling like an idiot Harry could take over for me.  
  
“Okay.” I whispered almost too quietly to hear myself.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Okay.” I said louder. “We’ll do this together.”  
  
“Really?” Harry’s eyes brightened with excitement and his lips stretched into a wide smile. “You mean it?”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose I’ll have to do it at some point. Sooner is better than later, right?” Harry wrapped me up in his arms and rolled us over so I was on top of him, laughing gleefully as he did so.  
  
“Wait, Harry!” I shouted, half laughing, for him to stop tossing me around like a ragdoll. He loosened his grip on me so I could lift myself up and make eye contact with him. “I need you to promise me something.”  
  
“Anything, Louis.” He said as he cupped my cheek with one hand, his smile still lifting all his features.  
  
“Promise me you’ll be there the entire time.” I spoke soft and sternly, making sure he understood how serious I was. “I can’t do this alone.”  
  
“Of course, Louis.” He said just as seriously as I did, although he couldn't bring down his grin, as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ll be right there the entire time.”  
  
“Thank you.” I breathed out as I collapsed onto his chest. Harry chuckled and ran his hand up and down the length of my spine.  
  
“I love you, Louis.”  
  
“I love you, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter Six

The next day I told my mother that on Friday I’d be having a friend over to study with me, my plan being to slowly introduce Harry to my family bit by bit. She was overjoyed at the thought of me having new friends and demanded that they stay for dinner. At this news Harry was overjoyed at the idea of finally meeting my parents and siblings and decided to bring over some food himself to make a good impression. When I told my father he was overjoyed that I had ‘finally made friends with a bloke.’ And at all of this I felt completely alone, overwhelmed, and scared shitless. I knew my parents wouldn’t be quite so excited if they knew how this ‘friend’ was actually my boyfriend and Harry will be devastated when he realizes just how upset they’ll be but there was nothing I could do about it now. It was too late to stop the catastrophe that I had set into motion myself. And it turns out that not only does time fly when you’re having fun, it also flies when you’re spending your week having an anxiety attack every five fucking minutes.  
  
As the final bell rang out on Friday I watched with immense jealousy as all the other students left with wide smiles on their faces while talking far too loudly about all their exciting plans for the weekend.  
  
“Louis?” I was interrupted from my brooding by the sound of Eleanor’s voice behind me. “Wanna come over?”  
  
I turned around and she immediately snickered at my facial expression. “What’s got you so pissy?”  
  
“I am not pissy.” I said with a scowl causing her the laugh more. “And I can’t come over, I have plans already.”  
  
“Oh these plans wouldn’t happen to involve a certain sexy bad boy, would they?” She said in a mocking tone.  
  
“Maybe they do, maybe they don’t.” I stood up from my seat, deciding that the school would be empty enough for me to hop into Harry’s van unnoticed.  
  
“Tell me how it goes on Monday?” She called after me.  
  
“Of course!” I waved goodbye to her, making my way down to the parking lot farthest from school, where I force Harry to park when I know I’ll be going home with him.  
  
When I got there Harry was leaning against the door of his van, wearing a white t-shirt, dark shorts, converse, and a grey beanie pulling back his hair. As I got closer to him it also became clear that he had removed his piercings before coming to school. He looked unusually non-threatening like that, even with more of his tattoos revealed, and I couldn’t help but smile as I approached him.  
  
“What?” He asked as we both entered the van.  
  
“You did that on purpose.”  
  
“Did what?” He smiled innocently.  
  
“Dressed like a normal person instead of Danny Zuko for the first time in your life just because you’re meeting my parents.” Harry laughed loudly and placed his hand on my thigh for the entire drive. We stopped at his place first, he needed to grab the spaghetti dish he had made for tonight and I had to nick a pack of cigarettes from his bedside table. When he turned onto my street was when I pulled one out of the carton and shoved it hastily between my lips.  
  
“I thought you wanted to quit.” Harry said as I fished out the lighter I had bought what felt like years ago from my backpack.  
  
“Not yet.” I responded as I tried to relax myself by sucking in deep draws of breath from the cigarette and slowly blowing it out.  
  
“Everything will be just fine, Louis.” Harry reassured me, noticing my nerves.  
  
“It’s that one.” I said, not bothering to correct him as I gestured to a small two-story home made of brick and white paneling and stubbed out my mostly wasted cigarette.  
  
“Alright,” Harry spoke as he pulled into my small driveway and put the van in park. “Let’s do this.”  
  
I hopped out of the van as he did, trying to ignore the way my stomach turned more and more uneasily the closer we got to my front door. I put on a brave face for Harry though, I know how he hates to see me upset.  
  
“Mum?” I called out as I opened the front door and we both stepped inside.  
  
“Right here!” A high-pitched, chipper call came from the direction of my kitchen. I followed the sound as Harry snickered beside me.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Are you sure you two are related?” He joked and I clocked him in the side as I tried to hide my smile. As we pushed through the large swinging door that led to the kitchen we were immediately met with the scent of spices and a smell that can only be described as burnt. I coughed and spotted my mother fanning a pan of something that was smoking profusely.  
  
“Mum, what did you do?” I laughed at the flustered look on her face.  
  
“Nothing! I was busy making the chicken and I forgot about the garlic bread, although now I suppose we’ll have to do without.” She turned to me with a sigh of defeat but immediately brightened as she spotted Harry. “Hello!”  
  
“Hi,” Harry mumbled awkwardly and I smiled beside him.  
  
“I’m Johannah,” she offered a hand to Harry which he took quickly. “You are?”  
  
“My name’s Harry.”  
  
“Last name, dear?” She said as she dropped his hand and went to continue cooking.  
  
“Styles.” He said softly and I couldn’t help but grip his forearm behind his back in reassurance. My mother stopped in her tracks and stared up at him.  
  
“You’re Harry Styles?”  
  
“Yes, M’am.”  
  
“Well,” She began to move around the kitchen again. “It’s nice to see that Louis is… Broadening his horizons.” She lifted an eyebrow towards me but didn’t seem to be anymore frustrated with me than she usually was. Maybe Harry was right; maybe this wasn’t going to nearly as bad as I thought. I had assumed that she would have already kicked him out by now, what a pleasant surprise.  
  
“Mum?” I said softly. “Harry's brought some food.”  
  
“Have you now?” She sounded surprised in a good sort of way. Harry handed her the large bowl covered in plastic wrap that he had carried in with him.  
  
“Spaghetti.” He said proudly and I couldn’t help but smile. Although he would never admit it Harry had tried harder at perfecting his spaghetti recipe than he had at anything else. He made me try each and every single bowl as well, I was growing slightly sick of the taste to be completely honest but I’d eat one hundred bowls of the stuff if it meant I got to see Harry’s proud little smirk every time, especially since he’s always so hard on himself. When you don’t know him like I do it can be pretty easy to assume he’s an overconfident asshole but in actuality he’s always beating himself up over the tiniest shit, a side effect of growing up in the household that he did. It’s nice to know he has something he feels he can be proud of.  
  
“Thank you, Harry.” My mother took the bowl with a large smile on her face. “Looks delicious.” We made our way up to my bedroom after that, Harry examining every photo on every shelf and wall as we went. As I opened the door Harry took a deep breath before flopping down messily onto my bed.  
  
“It smells like you in here.” He mumbled as he shut his eyes contentedly and folded his arms under his head.  
  
“Is that a good thing?” I asked him as I gazed at the sight of him all sprawled out over my bed. Back in January this would’ve been a nightmare, but now, seeing him here and the way the room seems to light up with his presence, I can’t imagine why I didn’t bring him here sooner. He makes this whole house seem a lot less scary and stressful.  
  
“It’s a great thing.” Harry looked up at me and smiled before patting the empty space beside him on the bed. I laid down next to him and we instantly folded into each other. I tucked my head underneath his chin and he grabbed my hands to play with and wrap his long fingers around. After a few moments of laying there in silence I decided it was time to tell Harry something I’ve been wanting to for a long time. Well, not a long time exactly. A few weeks is more like it. I’ve just been nervous because… I’m not sure why. I know it will be great news to him, I don’t see why he would ever take it negatively. I guess it just becomes more and more nerve-racking the closer we come to taking this final step together. But it’s also extremely exciting, and it’s not like it’s a bad thing. We’ve been dating for over five months and we should-  
  
“Louis?”  
  
“Yes?” I squeaked out in surprise.  
  
“Are you alright? You seem distracted.” Harry spoke softly as he pushed my bangs back out of my face and stared at me with large, concerned eyes. “Are you worrying about tonight? Because you shouldn’t be.”  
  
“I actually wanted to talk to you about tonight…”  
  
“Are you getting cold feet?”  
  
“No,” I lied. “I was just wondering if we could go back to your place after dinner.”  
  
“Sure, Louis. Is that all?”  
  
“No.” Harry waited for a few moments before chuckling softly.  
  
“If you’re trying to communicate to me through brain waves it’s not working.”  
  
“I love you.” I sputtered abruptly and Harry smiled widely.  
  
“I love you too, Louis.”  
  
“And that’s the reason why I wanted to come over tonight. Because I love you and you love me and we should be able to be completely open and honest with each other. Right?” I quickly rambled off to him.  
  
“Yes, Louis, what are you trying to say?” Harry laughed slightly at the way I huffed at him.  
  
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m…” I swallowed nervously. “Ready. I’m ready.” I felt slightly better having said it but the silence coming from Harry was making me more than a little nervous. He said nothing for what felt like hours, he just stared at me with this confused little crinkle between his eyebrows and a slight squint to his eyelids. After the most agonizing minute or two of my life he looked me dead in the eyes and said,  
  
“Ready for what?” Oh my fucking god…  
  
“Ready to… you know…” I flailed slightly as I spoke to Harry in the calmest possible way as frustration began to build within me.  
  
“I don’t understand what you’re-”  
  
“For fuck’s sake, ready to go all the way!” I whispered harshly so my Mum and my sisters wouldn’t hear. Blood ran to my cheeks from both annoyance and embarrassment as slow realization began to dawn on Harry.  
  
“Oh…” He said languidly.  
  
“Yeah…” I mocked him. Suddenly, as everything seemed to fall into place in his apparently pea sized brain, his eyes widened and his gasped slightly.  
  
“Oh!”  
  
“Oh my God, Harry…” I turned around so we were laying chest to back and attempted to calm the fire blazing in my cheeks. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around me and began pressing sloppy kisses all over my face and neck, instantly washing away all annoyance and causing my blush to worsen.  
  
“Are you sure, love?” He asked me seriously after he had gotten me to turn back around in his grip. At the beginning of our relationship Harry would try several times per date to get me to sleep with him, after I explained to him how uncomfortable that made me he stopped and slowed it down to asking me about once a month. I then explained to him how I would love to (because he’s Harry fucking Styles, who wouldn’t want to), but even though I’m not as religious as my family and don’t necessarily want to wait until marriage I still was freaked out by the thought of being that close to someone and wanted to wait until felt like I would actually be able to relax in my own skin. After that conversation Harry had kissed me on the cheek, pulled me close, and hasn't asked since. But Harry has made me feel so much more secure with my sexuality and the way my body looks (“Fuck what other people think, who are they to tell you who you can and can’t fall in love with! Ya know, I bet they’re just jealous that we have all the hotties on our side!” and “I love your curves, babe. Your tummy just might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And your arse? Sculpted by the gods themselves!”), that the idea of making love with him actually made me smile instead of cringe like it used to.  
  
“I’m positive, Harry.” He smiled so big I was sure his face would split in half as he pecked me on the nose and pulled me on top of him.  
  
“I promise, I’m going to make this the best, most exciting, most special night of your life.” I wasn’t too sure about “best” or “special.” But “exciting?” That could be  
done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for butchering all the British slang terms that I attempted to use.

“Boys?”  
  
“Yes, Mum?”  
  
“It’s time for dinner!”  
  
“C-coming.” I wasn’t prepared for this, not yet. We were so supposed to have more time. I mean I wasn’t looking at a clock or anything but I was sure we had at least two, maybe three, more hours before dinner would be ready. Before we’d have to sit down in front of six other pairs of judgmental eyes. Harry stood off of the bed and stretched, popping his back a few times as he did so. We had been sitting there, cuddling and chatting about nothing of real importance, surely we hadn’t been talking for that long, surely Mum made a mistake. It couldn’t be time yet.  
  
“You alright, love?” Harry said as he bent down besides the bed to get on my level.  
  
“I don’t think I can do this, Harry.” I whispered quietly. “Maybe we shouldn’t… It’s not time…” My voice sounded shaky and unstable even to me and I could feel moisture beginning to fill my eyes and blur my vision.  
  
“Hey,” Harry soothed as he brought a comforting hand to squeeze my hip. “It’ll be alright I promise… It’s no big deal. No need to panic or cry…”  
  
“It’s big deal to them. It’s everything to them. They’re going to kill me.” At that point Harry had crawled back to where he had been lying seconds before and wrapped me up in his arms and chest.  
  
“Louis, they’re not going to kill you. I wouldn’t give them the chance. I’ll be right by your side the entire time Louis I swear.”  
  
“You mean that?” I asked and he kissed my palm softly.  
  
“Of course I do, I wouldn’t make you go through this alone… C’mon…” He stood from the bed again, pulling on my arm as he went. I groaned as I sat up on the edge and stopped there, Harry chuckled slightly. “Now you’re just being lazy, Lou get your ass out of bed.” He yanked me forwards until I fell into him.  
  
“I love you, Louis.”  
  
“I love you, Harry.” Standing there with him felt good, better than it probably should. No one should become so dependent on one person for so many things; love, protection, warmth, happiness, passion. All of it came from Harry, without him I’d be back where I was in January, staying in my room every night just listening to my parents fight, fucking crying over the things my sisters would say when they got mad about it and needed a punching bag, hanging my head low in the halls and fighting back constant fear of seeing the Brigade, coming closer and closer everyday to flinging myself off of the top of the school. At that time that seemed normal, I considered myself lucky to have the life I did because things could always be worse, but now that I’ve had this, a place to go when I’m mad, or happy, or bored, or depressed, or excited, I can’t go back to that. And what we were going to be doing less than an hour from now could force me to do just that, force me to lose the best thing that has ever happened to me and drag me right back into the abyss.  
  
Harry stepped out of my grasp and towards the door and I instantly felt the loss of his warmth within every part of me. The only sort of refuge I felt was in the firm grip of Harry’s hand wrapped around my wrist as we made our way to the dining room. The comfort of that was lost as we descended down the stairs in to the visibility of my family seated around the table and he dropped my hand. I never felt so alone in my life. 

  


…

  


I couldn’t eat. I felt like a slightly more wrecked version of a kid on Christmas Eve. My stomach was filled with cold feeling butterflies every time I looked into the concerned eyes of one of my family members. They could tell something was wrong just by looking at me, God I must’ve looked horrible considering how much of a mess I felt like inside. Harry must’ve noticed this too because he would occasionally press one of his feet on top of mine, like a less obvious way of holding hands, or place a firm palm over my thigh under the table cloth to help stop my legs from shaking. And every damn time I would manage to make myself forget the fact that I was coming out of the closet tonight and be able to at least place a bit of food in my mouth my mind would bring up the very real possibility that I could also be losing my virginity tonight and I would nearly choke on the mouthful.  
  
Besides the fact that I was practically having a silent mental breakdown in my seat dinner went swimmingly. My mother asked Harry every possible question she could about his life without sounding nosy and Harry indulged her by using explicit detail with even the dullest of answers. Harry surprisingly got along with my father quiet well too. They discussed the latest football games, their favorite teams and players, basically all the things Harry enjoys that I could not give less of a fuck about. Harry even interacted well with my sisters. When Daisy had asked him “Why do have all those drawings on you?” and Phoebe had nodded with just as eager curiosity Harry just laughed and responded by saying “Because I’m an idiot.” They had all chuckled while Mum apologized profusely on her daughters’ behalf and Lottie stayed silent. She’s a smart girl and I think from the moment she first saw Harry and I together she knew something was different between us and the other friends I’ve brought over.  
  
My nervousness skyrocketed as Mum stood up and began to clear everyone’s plates from the table. Harry and I had both agreed earlier on to wait until desert was brought out, then was when we would tell everyone why Harry was actually here. The pressure of Harry’s foot on mine increased slightly and my heart swelled with the comfort the simple motion brought me. Every trace of that comfort was gone the moment Mum returned from the kitchen with six plates and a freshly baked cherry pie all spread out and arranged on a shining platter. She must’ve gone through so much trouble to make that, she hates to cook and bake and spend any amount of time in the kitchen really. But she did it any way, she spent hours of her precious time just for me and my ‘friend’ that she wanted so much to impress and make like her. My ‘friend’ that by the end of the night I was sure she would end up hating. By the time everyone at the table, besides me, was about halfway through with their pieces of homemade pie Harry turned slightly to look at me. I’m positive that anyone else sitting at the table would barely have noticed it if at all, but to me that look was my world. His green eyes bored into mine with a look of calm determination, he squeezed my thigh slightly in his hand, and raised his eyebrows in question. I knew what he was asking me without any words, I knew this was it, this was the moment we were doing what I brought him here to do, the moment were something if not everything will change. I gave him a slight nod and resisted the urge to throw up.  
  
“This pie is delicious, Mrs. Tomlinson.” Harry said calmly to my Mum and I wondered how Harry wasn’t on the verge of crying and pissing his pants like I was.  
  
“Thank you, Harry.” Mum smiled widely at him and me.  
  
“But I do have to admit, stealing all this free food isn’t the only reason I came here…”  
  
“Oh?” Mum said slightly warily.  
  
“Yes,” Harry dropped his fork definitively as he spoke. “Louis and I have some news we’d like to share and we thought it’d be best to do it together.” Harry looked over to me and at that point I was already struggling to breath. “Would you like to say it or should I?”  
  
“Louis,” My father spoke sternly, making me jump in my seat. “What the hell is going on?” I looked back to Harry and the comfort in his eyes gave me the confidence to do this the way I knew was right.  
  
“I’ll do it.” I told him and he nodded, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh comfortingly. I looked away from him and into my mother’s eyes, then my father’s and my sister’s. The twins were playing with stray cherries that had rolled off their plates and onto the table like they couldn’t give less of a shit, Fizzy looked confused, and Lottie looked slightly angry. I had assumed she was looking at me like that because she knew exactly what I was going to say and she just wanted me to get it all over with. Mum looked at me with the same confused look that Fizzy wore and my Father looked slightly angry as always but mainly impatient about the whole thing. But when I looked at Harry he was staring right back, smiling with the same look he gives me every time he tell me how much he loves me and I thought to myself then, why should I give a shit about how anyone else in the room is looking at me when Harry is staring at me like this, like I’m the only thing that matters in his world and no matter what I did or who I was he would still be there with the same exact look in those damn green eyes. I was still staring up at him when I barely even muttered,  
  
“I’m gay.” I looked back at my parents, my eyes flickering between the two pairs staring wide and blankly back at me as I continued speaking, louder this time. “I’m gay and Harry… Harry’s my boyfriend.” When I looked back at Harry he was smiling at me bigger than I’d ever seen and I couldn’t help but smile back slightly before my mother’s voice broke the little bubble that seemed to have settled around Harry and I.  
  
“Louis, you…” She struggled with her words for a moment as her face began to flush. “You must be joking…” I wasn’t given the chance to try.  
  
“Actually,” Harry spoke calmly. “He’s being very serious.” Silence settled throughout the room and I took the opportunity to look around the table. The twins were looking at Harry with deeply confused faces. I know they’ve heard the word “gay” before but if I had to guess I’d say they had no idea what it meant and that they were confused because they definitely knew what a boyfriend is and didn’t have any idea how a boy could have one. Fizzy was staring at us with her mouth hanging open in shock, like she knew we were in deep shit and couldn’t believe we would put ourselves in this situation, and Lottie could not have looked more pissed off.  
  
“No,” Mum’s voice interrupted my thoughts and when I looked at her she was staring right back at me, shaking her head with red rimmed, wet eyes. “You can’t be…” She shook her head like it was a sin just to say it. “You were supposed to meet a nice pretty girl and get married and give me pretty grandchildren you weren’t… you aren’t supposed to do this.”  
  
“Mum it’s…” A lump developed quickly in my throat and I made every effort I could to speak but I couldn’t.  
  
“I should’ve known this would happen.” My father spoke darkly. “I should’ve known you’d turn out to be a little faggot.” Tears began to trickle down my face and I vaguely felt Harry’s hand shift from my thigh to the small of my back.  
  
“Excuse me?” Harry's voice was rough with anger.  
  
“Don’t you dare fucking speak to me,” My father’s voice began to rise quickly and out of the corner of my eyes I could see the twins cower slightly. “Look what you’ve done to my son.”  
  
“What I’ve done to your son? All I’ve done is try to give him the love and support he deserves while you’re too busy screaming at your wife and kids to even notice him!” Harry barked and I wondered if he had always secretly hated my father. He would always comfort me when I’d get in a fight with him or he yelled at Mum but he hadn’t shown too much emotion on the subject beyond that, maybe I just hadn’t been looking close enough.  
  
“You turned him into a fucking poofter!” He shouted as he bounded up from his seat, sending the chair flying backwards from the force he used to stand and lean over the table towards Harry.  
  
“Don’t you fucking call him that.” Harry proclaimed menacingly as he stood as well, from my seat next to him I could clearly see the redness in his face from anger, the way his veins protruded from his hands, which he was clenching into tight fists. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t scare me slightly.  
  
“I’ll call the little cocksucker whatever the hell I want to, what’re you gonna do about it?” He taunted him and for more than a few moments I was sure Harry was going to explode. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment breathing heavily through his nose clenching and moving his knuckles around in a way that made the muscles in his forearms bulge out. He blinked his eyes open and stared straight into my father’s then he turned to me, his pupils were dilated farther than I’d ever seen them, leaving the tiniest sliver of green around them, his eyebrows were knitted together tightly, and his mouth was curved downward in a deep frown. When he looked back up at my father he was smirking at him.  
  
“Well, go on then…” He said in a cocky tone. “Stand up for your little whore.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Harry stood back and began walking angrily towards him, but when I thought he was about to stand up to him and punch him directly in the nose he walked right around and past him.  
  
“Harry?” I said quietly. He continued to stomp off until he was at the front door, he opened it with a strength that caused it to crack a large doorknob shaped dent into the wall behind it. “Harry!” I called out after him, desperate for him to come back, for him to hold me close and tell me everything would be okay. But he didn’t. He walked right out the front door and into his van outside. I jumped from my seat and ran to the window facing the driveway, banging on the glass with my fist. “Harry, please!” Tears began running down my face faster than they had all night and every sob that broke through my chest racked my whole body with pain. As Harry put the key in his ignition and turned it our eyes locked. He stared at me with those same green eyes that I had seen so much comfort and love in just minutes before as he backed out of the driveway and into the night. The sobbing turned to wailing then as I kept hitting the glass repeatedly and my father yelled things like “where’s your faggot now?” and “Must’ve realized what a worthless little shit you are.” Eventually I had enough, and if Harry was going to abandon me then I had no choice but to stand up for myself.  
  
“Shut the fuck up!” I whipped around and screamed at him. “I don’t give a shit what you think about me or Harry, so you can just shut your fucking mouth because I don't care anymore!”  
  
“Oh my God, Louis.” Behind my father Lottie stood up. “Is there anything you won’t do for attention?”  
  
“What are you talking about?” I said, surprised.  
  
“All you ever do is whine and complain about how no one in this family likes you, well this is why! You’re just a greedy little attention whore; you love it when dad yells because you just love to make a scene. Then you’ll play victim and cry in your room to make everyone feel sorry for you. I bet you’re not even dating Harry, I bet you only did this to get attention.’  
  
“That… That’s not true…” I said quietly because I hate having dad yell at me, and it genuinely does make me cry because of how unwanted and hated it makes me feel, and I am dating Harry and I love him more than I ever thought possible and it sickens me to think that Lottie thinks of me like that because that’s not me. And part of me knows that like always she’s just pissed off and needs someone to take it out on but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that maybe she’s right. And then there’s an even worse part of my brain that keeps telling me if Harry were here he’d shut her up.  
  
“Like hell it isn’t.” She replied to me in a frosty tone as I turned to the only source of comfort I could possibly have left.  
  
“Mum?” When I turned to look at her she had her head down, her face in her hands, as she sobbed quietly. When she looked up at me she had traces of makeup trailing down her cheeks and I felt so guilty because she was so excited for this night and wanted it turn out so good and I just had to go ahead and ruin it. “Mum, please say something.” I begged her, hoping she would stand up for me, but nothing could have prepared me for the words that slowly drifted out of her mouth as she stared almost disbelievingly up at me.  
  
“I have never been so disappointed in you, Louis.” I felt like I had been punched in the stomach and I began to cry again as I tried to continue standing up for myself for once.  
  
“But I’m your son…”  
  
“Not anymore you aren’t.” My father said as he stared at me with a disgusted look in his eyes.  
  
“What?” I cried, not believing what I was hearing.  
  
“No son of mine’s going to be a faggot.” He replied as though it was just a simple fact of life. Before I could register what happening he was bending down towards me, picking me up roughly and slinging me over his shoulder. I kicked and punched and screamed at him as he carried me towards the front that was still left open but I was no match for his brute strength. The softened sounds of my Mum crying harder than ever and one of the twins screaming for me reached my ears just as my father threw me roughly onto our front lawn.  
  
“You can come get the shit from your room tomorrow…” He said as I regained concentration and he looked up and down my body all sprawled out on the grass like he had never seen anything more disgraceful in his life. “After that I never want to see your face again.” He said before spitting on me and slamming the door on the life I had just given up, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter Eight

I walked to the gas station out of habit, feeling somewhat numb and withdrawn. Lately when I got into a fight with my parents I would walk down there to let myself cool down. Usually I call Harry once I get there, tell him to pick me up and to make it quick because ‘I’m freezing my bullocks off’. This time, however, I wasn’t sure what to do. Harry was off God knows where thinking God knows what and after what he did to me I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was still the only person I wanted to see. Once I got inside it began to pour down rain, heavy and full drops of water splat and spread out against the large, dingy window in front of me as I pulled out my phone and typed out a quick text to the only person I could think to contact.  
  
 **To El: **Hey, do you think I could come over?****  
  
I placed my phone back into my back pocket after hitting send and browsed around while I waited for a reply. A pointless thing to do, really. It wasn’t like I had brought any money with me, but the look from the old grimy cashier told me he wasn’t too pleased with me just leaning against one of his displays of cheap snack foods. After one quick trip around the entire store I pulled my phone back out, it had been five minutes with no response.  
  
 **To El: **El, please I really need someone to talk to…****  
  
As I walked around a second time I took longer, picked up a few things as though I was going to buy them before slowly placing them back. I did that for another fifteen minutes before checking my phone, still nothing.  
  
 **To El: **El, I’m being really serious. This isn’t like usual I really, really need you.****  
  
I tried to ignore the not so subtle disapproving groans from the cashier for another fifteen minutes before I called her. No one picked up. At that point I began to panic because I hadn’t been lying. This really wasn’t like usual. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t know any of my other ‘friends’ well enough to know where they live let alone spend who knows how long with them, and usually I could swallow my pride and go home but this time I couldn’t unless I wanted to be thrown right back out again. God, if I had thought walking down my stairs without Harry’s hand to hold felt lonely then I really didn’t have a clue.  
  
I sighed slightly to myself as my only option became very clear to me. Although I may not know for sure where he is I do have Harry’s number and I could walk to his home fairly easily. As the thought occurred to me a bolt of lightening burst across the sky and the sound of thunder followed a few moments afterwards. Although it probably would’ve been the safer decision, I couldn’t bring myself to call Harry and tell him to pick me up. I didn’t want to come off as some weak, fragile little thing, I wanted to show him that I could at least walk without him by my side. And maybe once I got to his house I’d force him out of his bed, make him sleep on his old couch while I cuddled up in his big, warm comforter. I kept this thought in my mind as I left the gas station and began walking briskly towards his home in an effort to make myself feel less chilled. I hadn’t gotten very angry with Harry since the last time all his buddies beat me up, he hadn’t given me any reasons to. But now, I had never felt angrier in my entire life. I was so furious and confused and disoriented and just hurt because of what he did. The feeling kept swelling inside of me and the more I thought about it, the more my mind kept bringing me back to the way our eyes met when he pulled out of my driveway and how he had literally ran away. But every time that feeling swelled up within me I didn’t know what to with myself. I could feel my limbs burn with the need to punch and kick and I wanted to scream, but I also wanted to curl up into a ball and cry and at that moment I almost did.  
  
I managed to force myself to stay mostly upright although I felt so tired, but I couldn’t stop myself from crying. The rain made the fat tears rolling down my face less obvious but the sobbing couldn’t be helped and by the time I reached Harry’s home I knew I must’ve looked like a mess. But I stopped crying so hard at the familiar feeling of safety that settled in my stomach at the sight of his van parked sloppily out front and several lights on inside.  
  
I almost didn’t go in. I felt slightly defeated knowing that my only option was to face him in soaking wet clothes and a most likely red and snotty face, and I hated the way that all I wanted to do was have him hug me when I feel like I should be wanting to kill him. And there was a part of me that did want exactly that don’t get me wrong but… I was confused to say the least. With a hefty sigh I lifted my arm and knocked on his door three solid times.  
  
There was a loud croak of “Coming!” along with a quieter “shit, shit, shit…” before the door opened to reveal a very tired looking Harry. He was wearing the same clothes as before except for his beanie, his hair appeared ruffled and much messier than usual, like he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. His shirt was wrinkled and looked like he had been tugging and pulling on the fabric, and his cheeks were redder than usual, the same color lining his eyes and dusting his nose. He had been crying. He was silent for a few moments, just staring at me. Whatever he saw he must not have liked because the corners of his mouth dipped downward slightly and his eyes seemed to go from surprised to sullen in a matter of seconds.  
  
“I was just about to call,” He said quietly, bringing me back to reality. His eyes weren’t on mine, he seemed to be looking anywhere but my eyes in fact, but when he did his face seemed even more sad than before and eyes became suddenly teary. “I swear I was just about to call you, Louis. I just… I… Shit, just come inside. You’re soaking wet, you must be freezing.” He stammered out as he placed a warm hand on my shoulder and pushed me softly inside.  
  
The touch made me cry again, only slightly this time. He still felt so gentle and cozy and comforting like nothing had ever happened and I wanted nothing more than to pull him closer and pretend like nothing did. As he shut and locked the door behind us and there was barely a moment’s hesitance before he was holding me by the waist and wrapping his strong arms around my back, cradling me like I could break at any moment. And maybe I could.  
  
I cried harder at the feeling of him firm against me and pushed my head into the crook of his neck as I wound my arms around his shoulders. After a few moments of this I began to feel him shaking slightly against me and when he spoke it became very clear that he was crying as well.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Louis.” He cried quietly into the fabric of my t-shirt. “I am so, so sorry.”  
  
“You promised.” I said sternly as tears still poured down my face. I pulled away from him slightly, enough so he could clearly see the hurt that I felt written all over my face while still keeping our arms wrapped around each other. “You promised me that you wouldn’t leave and that you’d be by my side the entire time and then you ran away!”  
  
“I know,” He began to cry harder and my heart broke at the way his sobs shook through his body and into mine. “I’ll never forgive myself for it.”  
  
“Then why did you do it?” I shouted back at him as I shoved him away from me. I didn’t want him to touch me anymore; I wanted him to realize just how badly he made me feel. He staggered backwards with a hurt look on his face that killed me.  
  
“It was just… The stuff he was saying.” His face became angry and I could tell he was referring to my father. “He can talk to me like that all he wants. I don’t care, I can take it. It was just when he started saying all that shit about you, like the way my dad used to do to me… calling you those names… I was so close to fucking losing it, Louis. I wanted to hurt him so badly, I could've killed him, Louis. But you would’ve hated me… I couldn’t live if you hated me. I love you too much and I’m so sorry.” He began to cry again but I refused to let myself give in to temptation and hold him close. “I made a huge mistake, should’ve taken you with me, I… God I’m such a fucking idiot.” Harry smacked himself harshly on the forehead but before I could reach out and try to comfort him he was already backing up towards the rickety staircase that led upstairs. “I’m gonna go make my bed for you, and grab you some dry clothes. Come with me?” He pleaded and I nodded slightly, shaking a few tears off my chin and onto Harry’s carpet.  
  
“Okay.” I barely even whispered out. My throat felt tight like it was about to rip apart, my head was pounding, my eyes were stinging from crying myself dry, and I was more than positive my nose looked snotty and disgusting. But Harry didn’t say a word about it, just took my hand gently and gave it a firm squeeze before leading me up the stairs and into his bedroom. I watched as he made his bed with clean sheets he pulled from a hallway closet, he occasionally would look at me with big, reddened eyes before looking away just as quickly, choking back a sob with obvious force. The sight made me have to go through similar action with much less successful results. Every time Harry would hear the whimpers I couldn’t hold back he would work that much faster though I wished he would just drop the fucking blankets and hug me. As he placed down the last fluffed up pillow Harry looked back to me slowly. He didn’t say anything as he made his way to the dresser I was standing besides and pulled out a large purple jumper and black sweats.  
  
“These are the smallest clothes I have.” He said, his voice gritty, as he handed them to me. “I’m not sure how well they’ll fit but they’re all I’ve got.” He pulled out another pair of sweats and made his way to the bathroom across from his bed. “I’ll change in here.”  
  
I sighed slightly as he shut the door behind him and I could almost feel him doing the same. This was harder and more confusing than I thought it would be. I had no idea what to do or say and when I did I always thought of a reason to do or say the exact opposite and I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. So I stripped of my wet clothes and put on Harry’s warm and dry ones. They were definitely too big for me, the bottoms hung low and open on my smaller hips and just as I was starting to pull the top over my head Harry walked back into the room wearing trousers similar to then ones I had on and the same t-shirt from all day. He smiled slightly at the way his trousers went all the way down my passed my feet and gathered slightly on the floor when I wore them, but as his eyes traveled upwards they darkened and he frowned deeply.  
  
“What?” I asked him quietly as I pulled the jumper all the way down. He approached me slowly and pulled it back up slightly. My eyes followed the direction of his gaze and were met with a baseball-sized bruise blooming from my hip.  
  
“What happened?” He whispered as his eyes slowly raised and met with mine. My mind struggled to recall for a moment before the memory of my father physically lifting me over his shoulders and heaving me out of my own home. I didn’t really think before responding with tears in my eyes,  
  
“It’s from when I hit the ground.” Harry’s eyes widened slightly in shock and confusion before scowling angrily.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“My dad threw me out…” There was moment of silence then and I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. Tears began trickling down my face harder as I began to remember why I had to drag myself here in the first place. Realization seemed to hit Harry as he tensed slightly and I worried for a moment he would run again before he pulled the shirt back down and pulled me into a tight hug.  
  
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered directly into my ear and I lost it. I cried and cried and cried, each sob more and more painful than the last. Strength started to leave me and when I wobbled where I stood Harry lifted me up and placed me softly in his bed. I didn’t have the chance to miss his warmth before he was right there beside me and I told him everything. Every little thing my family said and did to me once he had left and with every single detail he held me tighter and tighter and I must’ve cried myself dry because the tears stopped coming but I kept wailing and even though I felt loud and ugly I just couldn’t stop myself. I needed the release that came with every piece of the story I relayed to Harry and there was no way that crying wouldn’t come with it. I couldn’t think clearly and words began to lose their meaning to me as they just continued to tumble out of my mouth and I couldn’t breathe, I felt my lungs constrict painfully every time I tried and eventually I became aware of the fact that I was having a panic attack but that didn’t help. Nothing I did helped until Harry’s voice caught my attention.  
  
“Focus on me.” And I did. The hand he had rubbing up and down my side, the gentle kisses he was placing on my face, the quiet ‘I love you’ he would whisper every now and then and I calmed down everything about myself. The cry trickled down into the occasional gulp, my breathing evened out, and I could feel my bones relaxing into the squishy mattress and ratty sheets and soft comforter and some where in the back of my mind I realized that I was supposed to have lost my virginity on this very bed on this very night to this stupid bad boy that I was so fucking in love with I could hardly function sometimes. Lifting myself up from where my head was buried inside Harry’s chest, I wiped the sticky tears from my eyes and face and met Harry’s sad smile of relief with one of my own. Before I could say anything Harry spoke up again.  
  
“Everything is okay, Louis.” Immediately the urge to tell him just how ‘not okay’ everything was and how much worse it was going to get surged within me but Harry interrupted me before I could tell him off. “I know you don’t believe me right now but try to remember I’ve been through this sort of thing, and it hurts like hell; I know it does. But the sting wears down and things are only going to get better from here. I promise.” My immediate response was to tell him how he has broken promises before but for once in my life I stopped myself. Before I could freak myself out, make myself angry, or start hating myself anymore I stopped myself. I allowed myself to relax into Harry’s arms, to believe the words he was whispering in my ears, to close my eyes and shut out all the bad things in my life. And goddamn did it feel good. And maybe it would only last for tonight, maybe I would wake up in the morning and Harry would be gone or I’d realize just how truly fucked I am but I didn’t let myself worry.  
  
We didn’t have sex that night. I never brought it up and Harry didn’t either and for that I was incredibly grateful. With everything that I had already been through that day and everyday since Harry fucking Styles kissed me on the roof I couldn’t of handled the powerful and raw emotion that comes with doing something like that. I know I couldn’t have done it. And I know Harry knew that too. And that, that knowledge that Harry knows me inside and out and can tell where all my limits are and was there for me the night when I broke and needed him more than ever and he still loves me, was more than enough. I didn’t need to have us be naked together or for him to take of me sexually because I already felt naked. I felt naked and open and spread wide for him to see and he took care of me in every other way possible and I felt so good. I felt good and loved and cared for and so impossibly close and in love with this other human being that it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not my family, or Harry’s family, or sex, or what the fuck we were going to do with our lives in the morning. All that mattered was us being idiotic, emotional, lovesick teenagers. And that felt better than I could’ve possibly imagined.  
  
“I love you.” Was the last thing I whispered to him before letting exhaustion finally take over me.  
  
“I love you more.” Was the last thing I heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I have never gotten this much feedback on any of my fics and it means the world to me.


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